I keep a jar of pencils on my desk, mostly for the pleasure of them. They are the only tool I own that has never asked me to update it.

Here is what I think they teach, after a few years of paying attention:

  1. Erasing is part of the process. The pencil has a rubber on the end because its inventors knew you would need it.
  2. Sharpening is a pause. You cannot do it quickly and you should not try; it gives the thought time to finish.
  3. Pressure is information. The line tells you how sure you were.
  4. It runs out. A finite thing is a gentle teacher about finite time.
  5. It is never precious. You can make a mess with it, and so you do, and so you find the idea.

I sketched this essay on the back of an envelope with a pencil that was nearly gone. That felt right.